


a new day

by aquamarine_nebula



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: And viktor loves it, Confessions, M/M, is this the first time i've written in canon!viktor's pov idek, moving to st petersburg, the ultra honeymoon phase, this is like, viktor has a lot of self-hatred but yuuri will help him learn to love himself, when they first move in together, yuuri being a fanboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine_nebula/pseuds/aquamarine_nebula
Summary: There were three lies Viktor’s mind tried to convince him regarding his relationship with Yuuri.First: Yuuri understood each and every one of his actions, so he had nothing to explain. Second: Yuuri was too good for him. Third: he loved Yuuri much more than Yuuri loved him.(He was wrong about this.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> title is from an instrumental piece by milo stavos that i was looping whilst writing

There were three lies Viktor’s mind tried to convince him regarding his relationship with Yuuri.

First: Yuuri understood each and every one of his actions, so he had nothing to explain. This was a difficult one to unlearn, but he had to whenever he remembered the calm, quietly intense way Yuuri had decided to end things between them. What things, though? Their relationship as newly-engaged fiancés or just their relationship as coach and student?

(This was one of the things he didn’t ask, didn’t let himself wonder about, because letting go of Yuuri was unthinkable. Going back to Japan to pick up his material life and leave his world behind was unthinkable. Forcing himself back into an empty apartment that had no trace of Yuuri was unthinkable. At least Yuuri had told him after that leaving his side was unthinkable, and easily brought himself to Russia to integrate himself into Viktor’s life.)

Second: Yuuri was too good for him. This was obvious. Hard-working, stubborn Yuuri, who had no flightiness, who was selfless to a fault, who stole Viktor from the world but couldn’t bring himself to steal the world from Viktor even as he thrust it away with both hands. The public adored Yuuri for his easy grace and emotiveness, the people he let in adored him for his quiet nature.

(Even they didn’t know what a roiling storm the quietness hid. Viktor learned swiftly that he was the only one to which Yuuri showed his weaknesses. Even his mother got that fake laugh when his eyes were going wild with panic, but Viktor saw it all, became the first person Yuuri would come to after an attack, the person he would step into to ground himself, the person who knew all of the little signs that communicated ‘ _too much_ ’ and that Yuuri would trust to bring it back to ‘ _just enough_ ’. Even after every time he screwed it up Yuuri would keep on coming back and Viktor couldn’t thank him enough.)

Third: he loved Yuuri much more than Yuuri loved him. This was unquestionable. Viktor couldn’t imagine anyone feeling much for him as they peeled back the layers of veneer. Yuuri was the type of person who became more and more beautiful the further in you were, Viktor was the type of person who became uglier and uglier. Viktor still let him in because it only felt right to give at least as much of himself as Yuuri was, although it would never be an equivalent exchange. Still, Yuuri looked at him with a light in his eyes. Viktor savoured it furiously, held onto the memory, because any day now the light would go out and Yuuri would see nothing more than a shell that had forced him away from everything he loved.

(He was wrong about this.)

 

Viktor awoke in what had been an empty, stale apartment with the winter sun falling through the window and a warm body against his arm, fingers lightly tracing shapes against his bare chest. When he opened his eyes, it wasn’t a dream like he half-expected. Yuuri looked up from his chest to meet his eyes as Viktor reached out to curve a hand over the side of his head, relearning the softness of his hair. His eyes shone almost red in the light, and soft lips quirked into a smile when Viktor stared.

“Good morning,” he said, and the smile turned into a full grin.

“It’s three in the afternoon, Viktor.”

Viktor blinked. That, he should have figured, as the windows in his bedroom were west-facing, but after almost a year away he’d half forgotten. He let out a sigh and tugged on Yuuri’s arm until he was lying half on him. “We should have started unpacking yesterday,” he said, his lips against Yuuri’s hair.

Most the packages had been sent ahead, so they would only have to bring the necessities when travelling from Japan to Russia, and for now the main room resembled Stonehenge.

Yuuri let out a huffing laugh. “I don’t think you were capable of that yesterday.”

Viktor carded his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. It was true that he’d stumbled into the shower as soon as he was through the front door, stood under the stream of tepid water whilst shivering for about three minutes, and then stumbled straight back out and dropped onto the bed, which had somehow gotten sheets on it in the time he’d blearily stood in the shower. He’d half-woken up when Yuuri had climbed in next to him, enough to pull him into his arms and realise that he was wearing one of Viktor’s old tops that he’d left in the wardrobe in lieu of bringing it to Japan.

“We have a couple of days before Yakov starts shouting at me about preparing for Europeans and I start shouting at you for Four Continents,” Viktor said, sitting up and keeping his arms tight around Yuuri so he had to follow.

“You’ve never shouted at me,” Yuuri said, shifting to a more comfortable position. The top, too large for Viktor and so much too large for Yuuri, fell off one shoulder, and Viktor stared at the exposed skin, smooth and completely unmarked except for a single freckle on his collarbone. “Viktor?”

He ducked his head down to bite Yuuri’s shoulder and smiled innocently when Yuuri yelped and batted him away with a laugh.

“I don’t know whether we’ll be able to sort it all out today, but we should at least try to unpack the majority,” Viktor said as if nothing had happened, ignoring that Yuuri was muffling his laughter against his neck.

Part of him was rebelling; the bedroom was tidy except for their two carry-on bags at the foot of the bed. He could easily have stayed in that very spot with Yuuri, revelling in the fact that they were together and that this apartment would no longer be painfully empty.

Yuuri squeaked when he got out of bed, his eyes immediately going to the ceiling when Viktor shot a look over his shoulder. “If that’s your reaction, I’m guessing you _don’t_ want me to walk around naked?”

Yuuri blushed dark red, and furrowed his brow as if he was seriously contemplating it.

 

After ending up by putting some clothes on and appeasing Makkachin by taking him out for a short walk—it was too cold for any longer than the fifteen minutes it took for Makkachin to choose a tree to do his business on—Yuuri had begun meticulously going through the boxes of books and placing them on shelves. Makkachin skittered to him as soon as they got in, flopping down onto his lap and happily wagging his tail when Yuuri began tugging through the curls on his head. Viktor sighed, looking longingly at the way the top Yuuri had stolen kept slipping further down his shoulder and then towards the bedroom where the corner of the bed was visible through the doorway.

To distract himself, he hefted the box that had the kitchen things Yuuri’s mother had sent along so Yuuri could cook the food to which he was habituated. The kitchen, though typically well-stocked, was still Spartan enough that everything fit easily. He became more distracted at the box with the photo albums from Yuuri’s childhood, his cooing over a tiny, chubby Yuuri and receiving more than a few startled looks from Makkachin and an unimpressed stare from Yuuri, even though he couldn’t quite keep the blush off his cheeks.

“Final box for today, I think,” he finally said when it hit midnight. Yuuri groaned, stretching and falling against Viktor’s side.

“There’s still half the furniture to set up,” he grumbled, staring out of the window, and so not realising when Viktor opened a box of Yuuri’s clothes and gave a delighted gasp at the t-shirt visible on the top. He looked curiously in Viktor’s direction, and paled when he saw Viktor lifting it out of the box. “Oh _God_ ,” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to snatch it out of his hands. Too late, however. Viktor had already seen his own name written along the bottom and the artsy print of his silhouette. “My mother packed that… I wouldn’t… not _now_ , I mean it would be _weird_ ; I-I wouldn’t wear it!”

“Yuuri!”

He groaned and hid his face in the top. “It was a gift,” he said, drawing out the last word in a whine. A couple of seconds later, he peeked up at Viktor and let out an ‘ _oof_ ’ when Viktor tackled him with a hug, curling into his warmth and pressing kisses to his face. “Why aren’t you weirded out by this?”

Viktor placed a final kiss on his forehead. “It’s any artist’s dream to inspire someone, and that I inspired _you_ ”—he let out a startled sound when Viktor kissed his lips—“makes me so happy. Every time I see proof of it I’m just so glad skating led me to you.”

Yuuri was staring up at him with wide eyes, hands clutching tight onto Viktor’s top and breath coming through parted lips. “I love you,” Viktor continued, and Yuuri blinked twice.

“I know,” he replied, clapping his hands to his face when Viktor rolled off him and laughed.

“ _First_ time I’ve said it, and _that’s_ your response,” he said between peals of laughter. “If it was anyone else I’d be _offended_ , Yuuri.”

“No, _no_ , it’s just… I did know it, okay? You’ve shown it to… you’ve shown that it’s _true_ , you know, and I would know it even if you’d _never_ said it but I’m still glad you did and…” He paused, pressing his face into Viktor’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Viktor felt like light was shooting out of the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet. This much warmth and happiness was too much for one person, and he found himself wondering if his heart would just _stop_ from the extent of it.

He grabbed Yuuri’s hands, holding them tight even though they were shaking. “I know,” he replied.

The floor was becoming uncomfortable on his back, but he couldn’t complain when Yuuri climbed on top of him, bracing his weight on his forearms as he looked down at Viktor. “No, no, we have to get this right,” he said, feigning sincerity. He placed a hand on Viktor’s cheek, brushing over his lower lip with his thumb. “We’re starting over. Say it again.”

Viktor drew him closer, so that most of Yuuri’s weight was on him and their foreheads pressed together. Yuuri was red, but still meeting his gaze unwaveringly. “I love you,” he said softly.

“I love you,” Yuuri repeated.

“We’re doing this all backwards,” Viktor continued, hooking his leg over Yuuri’s so he could switch their positions. It was easier to lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m fairly sure you’re supposed to say that you love the other person _before_ you get engaged and move in together.”

Yuuri reached to poke the whorl on top of his head and pulled him in for a more lingering kiss that had Viktor’s toes curling. “Question,” he said. Yuuri hummed in response and Viktor committed the warm, enamoured look Yuuri was giving him to memory. “Could you wear that t-shirt the next time we have sex?”

“ _Viktor_!” he yelped, kicking him off, but still not able to hold back laughter.


End file.
